After Armageddon
by RackOnInNC
Summary: What happens if the events we saw in "The End" were not stopped by Dean's sneak peek into the future.  The battle with Lucifer takes place and and everyone is dead save one. Castiel and OCs along with a few familiar faces. NO SLASH.
1. Alone

_**Sorry for any confusion. I posted this story a while back and when I added Chapter 3 today I added it as a new story not a chapter. When I went in to delete it I deleted the original...so I had to go back and redo the whole thing. The first Chapter was originally a One Shot, but I think I know where this is going now! **_

_**Please review if you will. Reviews...like Castiel's cheeseburgers make me very happy!**_

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><p><em><strong>Alone<strong>_

When we went in through the front door of Lucifer's lair, I was aware that he had sent me to my death knowingly. I went anyway. After all it was my job to look after Dean. Now everyone was dead. Dean, Risa, and everyone else that arrived in Detroit that day ready for the final showdown…was dead…except me. I didn't see Dean die, so I wasn't sure how I knew, but deep down I was certain. I didn't even want to think about what Lucifer was planning at this point, but that same feel in my gut told me he was still alive and waking the earth. How I alone managed to survive was a mystery.

Why had Lucifer let me live? The Demon throng had wounded me several times. I remembered the first three… a tracer round that came from far away grazed my right side leaving a burnt and bloody trail across my ribs…a shotgun blast to my left knee shattered it, leaving me unable to do anything but lie on the ground and shoot back...the third a point blank 9mm to my chest. With the battle moving on they had left me for dead. I watched in horror as Risa was shot in the head and her body collapsed on top of me, then there was nothing but blackness.

It seemed like years ago, but somehow I survived. When I finally came to I was alone, surrounded by death. The 9mm blast had somehow missed any vital areas and had gone clean through me, lodging in the ground. At least it wasn't a hollow point. Now all I had to do was figure out how to get up and move. My knee looked like raw hamburger, but amazingly no major arteries were hit so I hadn't lost a great deal of blood. Apparently someone had come back to finish me since I had a second bullet hole in my chest. That one was still in there somewhere. I hoped it wouldn't do any further damage as I attempted to find my way home.

_Where is home? Camp Chitaqua? No, that would not be home anymore. Everyone was dead. _Using my arms to drag myself closer to the tree nearby I sat up and looked around. Dead bodies and ordnance littered the ground as far as the eye could see. The body nearest me was not someone from camp, just some poor soul that had been possessed by a demon or worse yet a Croat, I hated to defile him, but I needed a bandage to make a splint for my knee.

Amazingly no one had gone through my pockets, I suppose because they were all dead. I took out my pocket knife and proceeded to cut his shirt off. It was dirty, but it would have to do for now. I didn't see anything sturdy nearby that would support my knee. I grabbed the nearest gun, hoping it still had some ammo, and fired at the lowest limb. _Dean taught me well, _I thought as it crashed to the ground a little too close for comfort.

Somehow it managed to break into pieces I could use and I tore the shirt into strips and bound two pieces on either side of my now destroyed knee. I didn't see how it could support me, but I had to try. I got my right leg under me and slowly pushed myself up to a semi-standing position against the tree. My knee throbbed as gravity sent blood rushing to my lower extremities, but it was bearable. I pushed myself away from the tree and managed to stand.

The scene swam before my eyes as dizziness overtook me, and I had to lean back against the tree. As my body adjusted to being upright for the first time in…well I had no idea how much time had passed…I tried again. This time I managed to remain standing and took an experimental step. So far, so good. Now the mangled mess that used to be my knee quivered as I stiffly pulled it forward. The rush of pain was agonizing, but it supported me after a fashion. _Wow, the human formerly known as a clueless Angel knows how to use an idiom, _I thought idly.

I struggled, but made my way from the tree to a nearby wall and stopped to rest. It was a long way back to the vehicles we arrived in, but I knew that that was my only chance to get away from this dreadful place. I only hoped that the fuel had not been siphoned off, or worse yet they had been stripped.

It seemed to take days, when in actuality maybe an hour had passed, and I finally made it back to the vehicles. They were all there and intact, so my assumption that everyone was dead was more or less confirmed. I went to the Dodge truck that I had driven here with Past Dean in the passenger seat. _Did he make it back? Of course he did you idiot, you were the one that rescued him from Zachariah._Getting in was difficult as I struggled to pull my battered leg into the cab. The bullet holes in my chest and burns on my ribs didn't make it any easier. It was a miracle I didn't have any infection. I sat there panting from my efforts and wanted so badly to just lie down on the seat and sleep, but I knew I had to get moving. The keys were still in my pocket. I turned the key and prayed…to whom I have no idea since my Father seemed to be long gone…and the engine roared to life.

Relief rushed through me as I saw the gas hand go up to half-way…that would get me home. _Home? What are you thinking? You have no home. _The road back to Camp Chituaqua was littered with debris, but thankfully none that I couldn't get around. I didn't have the strength to get out and move anything. I arrived at Camp Chitauqua as it was getting dark. As I suspected it was deserted. Before going to my cabin I stopped at the storage shed to see if there was anything left of our provisions. On the table inside was a note from Chuck.

_To anyone that makes it back,_

I have gone to see if there is anything left at home.  
>I took only what I needed. There should be enough<br>non-perishable food for a few people left, but no hygiene  
>supplies.<p>

Hope at least a few of you made it back.

Chuck

"Bless Chuck and his obsession with hygiene supplies."

I jumped slightly as I heard my voice, realizing it was the first time I had spoken out loud. Since nothing was disturbed, I could only assume that I was correct in my assessment that everyone was dead. I gathered enough things to make my self something to eat for the night and left, working my way stiffly to my cabin.

"I'm gonna feel like shit warmed over in the morning." I said to the air. "Talking to yourself is supposed to be a sign of insanity isn't it, Cas?" Since there was no one to answer I said to myself, "I suppose one could argue that if there is no one else to talk to it would be allowed."

Just then a cat came out from behind my cabin and ran over to me. It didn't look rabid, just hungry, so I allowed it to follow me. The stairs looked insurmountable as tired as I was, so I sat down on the bottom step to rest. My bad leg stuck out awkwardly and was past the point that it hurt. It was just numb now. The cat wove its way in and out of my legs, purring loudly, and I stroked it absently.

"Well, at least I've got someone…errr…something to talk to now!"

Gathering my strength I took the stairs slowly, just wanting something to eat and my bed. As I entered my cabin I could see that I wasn't going to get either very soon. It looked like a tornado had hit it. The bed was overturned; mattress in the floor, and every book I owned had been striped from the bookcases. I could tell from the places that were disturbed that the local stoners had been looking for my stash, since what little I had of value was still there.

"They probably didn't find the good stuff" I said to the cat.

"Maraaawwww", said the cat as if it didn't care about my stash.

"You are correct of course, Cat. We both need something to eat."

I righted the small table in the corner, placing the provisions on it. Pulling my lighter from my pocket, I searched the floor for candles. I placed them around the room so we could see to eat. I looked at the cat and realized I was the only one that needed the candles and laughed at myself.

I sat down wearily and opened a can of spam and cut it up with my pocket knife, feeding the cat more than I ate myself. I could see its ribs in the candlelight. It had probably been forced to fend for itself for many months and definitely wasn't feral since it come up to me so readily.

"I wonder where your family is Cat?"

The cat just looked up at me with big green eyes and I winced thinking of eyes the exact same color…Dean's. I sighed, but knew there was nothing I could have done. He was intent on killing Lucifer even though he had no chance; he never intended to live either if he couldn't accomplish his mission. I sat there for a while and stared at the bed trying to figure out how I could right it, but I knew I didn't have the strength.

"At least the mattress is flat on the floor, Cat, let's get some sleep." I grabbed a blanket and sank onto it, and was asleep in the blink of an eye.

The next few days I rested, knowing that the only way I was going anywhere was to get my knee healed as much as possible. It was never going to be normal again, but I would have to work with what I had. The bullet holes didn't seem to require much thought as they healed nicely. I knew that one bullet was in my body somewhere, but I would worry about that later. The cat stuck around, keeping me company, and I was thankful for that. What if I never found anyone else? Had Lucifer laid waste the rest of the world now that there was no credible threat? I hadn't seen a living soul since Detroit and the batteries were dead in all the radios in camp, so I had no way of knowing. The radio in the truck yielded nothing but static.

I decided it was best not to think about it and spent some time each day gathering my meager possessions and packing them into the back of the truck. I didn't know where I was going yet, or what I was going to do with myself now that I no longer had a purpose in life, but I knew I had to get out of here and try. I found a walking stick in one of the other cabins and began to take short walks to build up the strength in my knee…well what was left of it anyway.

I limped badly, but the pain was less and less each day until it was bearable. What surprised me was that I didn't go running for my stash. I had been drug and alcohol free for the last week and I didn't crave them. I did pack them in the back of the truck, but my main thought for doing that was a financial one and not a personal one. If the world still existed outside this camp and money still meant anything I would need some. Dean's tools went in as well…I'd probably have to fix the truck at some point. Good thing I spent a few afternoons secretly watching Dean work on the Impala.

I grew bored of just existing and gassed up the truck with what was left in the camp for the broken generator and put the rest in the back of the truck. Not safe I knew, but I had no way of knowing what was out there. I was ready to get on with my life. I took one last look around the camp, my eyes coming to rest on the rusted hulk that was the Impala. I knew I had forgotten something.

I limped over to Dean's cabin and looked around to find his box of cassette tapes, knowing he would want those to survive. I looked out the door and the cat was waiting for me by the truck. It was time to go. I got in the truck and the cat hopped over my lap to sit in the passenger seat. Looking at the box of tapes I pulled out one that I knew Dean liked and snapped it into the cassette deck in the truck. I knew it was unusual for a truck of this vintage to have one, so Dean must have known something when he acquired this particular one and gave it to me.

Looking over at the cat I said, "We're off!" and turned the key in the ignition. The tape clicked to life and I smiled as I heard the words that came out of the speakers.

_"__Leaves are falling all around, It's time I was on my way.__  
><em>_Thanks to you, I'm much obliged for such a pleasant stay.__  
><em>_But now it's time for me to go. The autumn moon lights my way.__  
><em>_For now I smell the rain, and with it pain, and it's headed my way.__  
><em>_Sometimes I grow so tired, but I know I've got one thing I got to do..."_


	2. Civilization is Out There Somewhere

**Civilization is Out There Somewhere**

I drove south for several days, just wanting to be out of the cold. I had to stop often, because my knee would begin to throb and stiffen after only a few hours and of course Cat, as I had begun to call her for lack of a better name, needed to get out too. I ended up on what was left of I-77 and was amazed by the sight of the Blue Ridge Mountain range when it rose up before me in West Virginia. I had expected it to be flattened by Lucifer's wrath, but it stood undamaged. Maybe there was hope.

The highway also began to look less and less like a battlefield and more like a normal road. I still hadn't seen any other humans, but I was beginning to think that maybe I would. I had to hope, because if I didn't find life soon I would be stuck since I had used almost all of the gas I had brought with me.

When I saw a sign for the Blue Ridge Parkway I decided that perhaps the best way to find some more people was to get off the highway and look in less open spaces. The mountain views were spectacular and I almost forgot I was looking for something. When I stopped an hour later, I was surprised to see someone else parked at the Overlook…a Park Ranger. I slipped my .45 into my jeans at my back and limped over to him.

"Not many people up here these days, what brings you to the Parkway?" the Ranger said, looking over my shoulder at the truck suspiciously.

I wasn't about to tell him where I had actually been, so had to think of a lie, it wasn't like he could actually check my story. I held out my hands to show I wasn't armed and just as I started to speak I heard the radio inside his car crackle and jumped at the sound. He went to the car to answer the call and I stood there uncertain what I should do. If I just got in the truck and left he would probably come after me, if I stayed here and he was not friendly I'd be in trouble too. My rather disheveled state didn't help matters any. Suddenly finding other people didn't seem like the best idea.

Before I had decided what to do he was back. The lie came tumbling out easily. "I came down from Maine to check on family members in Asheville. I decided to take the Parkway because I was tired of the highway." _Good thing I actually looked at the map before ventured in this direction._

"You might have some luck down that way, the further away you get from the blast zone the more people you will find." he said, still looking at me suspiciously.

"Why do they have you patrolling an empty road?" I said as non-threateningly as possible.

"We just want to make sure that no one from within the blast zone gets in. We've managed to kill all the Croats, and we don't want them back," the Ranger ground out angrily.

I tried to look as disgusted by the thought of Croats as possible and said, "Definitely not! Can you direct me to the nearest gas station? I'm about out."

He looked at me like he wasn't sure I was telling the truth, but gave me directions to one about 10 miles away just off the Parkway. I just hoped I had enough money to buy it and that he didn't have someone waiting for me when got there.

I turned back to the truck and thought perhaps it might be a good idea if I introduced myself and turned back. "I'm sorry I should have introduced myself…I'm Jimmy…Jimmy Novak.", I said as I extended my hand to him. That was a lie too, but I knew my true name wasn't a good idea since word of actual Angels existing did leak out of the Hot Zones along with black lists of their…no…our names. It was also evident from my past encounters that _Castiel_ was a name that raised questions even when not attached to an Angel. Jimmy's name would bring up questions if anyone looked into it, but seeing as I only had ID with his picture and name it was my only alternative.

He hesitated but then took my hand and shook it vigorously. "I'm George Martin. Welcome to North Carolina."

"Thanks. It's nice to be back." I said even though I had never been anywhere near North Carolina. "You have a nice day."

He nodded his head and turned to get back into his cruiser. I climbed back into the truck, wondering if I had managed to convince him I was harmless. Cranking up the truck I looked over at the cat and said, "OK Cat…this is it. Let's go find some people." The cat answered by looking at me and then reaching down to lick a paw.

I pulled into the gas station and saw a man inside, but no one else was around. As I stopped at the pump I could see that things had definitely changed. The Credit Card slots were covered with tape and a crude hand written sign said:

_Gas is $10/gallon _

_(or something I can trade)_

_No Credit Cards and No Checks_

_PAY BEFORE PUMPING...NO EXCEPTIONS_

A sigh of relief escaped my lips. Before I left camp I had raided all the cabins for valuables left behind and managed a pretty good haul. Knowing the rest of the world was on a barter system eased some of my worry. I went inside to do business.

As I entered the skinny kid behind the counter looked up from a "Busty Asian Beauties" magazine and I thought sadly of Dean. _No time for that you idiot…just get what you need and get the hell out of here._ He didn't seem nervous, or like he was waiting for someone to show up, so I figured my encounter with the Ranger hadn't attracted any unwanted attention.

I nodded in his direction as I scanned the store, seeing the cooler and heading that way. I picked up a few bottles of water, some snacks for myself and found a small box of cat food that had enough dust on it to tell me it had been here for a while. I walked back up to the counter and sat my items down.

It was evident from the items on the counter that anything was tradable these days, since he had a scale for weighing gold and another so clearly coated in white dust it had to be for drugs. The unmistakable smell of marijuana smoke hung in the air. Not knowing what the going rate was for either I decided to use the cash I had so would have a chance to stop some other places and make sure I wasn't getting ripped off.

I handed him 200 dollars and he pulled it quickly behind the counter as if it was something he hadn't seen in a long time. He turned to turn the pump on and I said, "Any good places to stay for a few days around here?"

"Sure. My Mom has a B&B down at the bottom of the mountain…first place on the right. Cheap, but clean since she's a neat freak. Cooks good too." he said and opened his magazine to start ogling it again.

I turned and started out, but thought of the cat in my truck. "Does she allow pets?" I asked.

"Sure…as long as it's a godamn cat." He spat out. "The place is full of freaking cats. She knows I'm allergic and still keeps those mangy cats."

I took that as my dismissal and went outside to pump my gas. Not a full tank, but I was going to stay here for a few days and get my bearings. Maybe things would get cheaper as I went. I needed to do some research too. _I wonder if they've got internet access? Better still IS there still an internet?_

As I pulled into the driveway of the B&B I had to laugh. The sign outside said _Den of Antiquity_. I smiled as I remembered Dean's abortive attempt to liberate my virginity, then sighed as I realized how much I missed him.

After checking in at the B&B I showered until I thought I would dissolve, luxuriating in the fact that I actually had a shower…and one with hot water. Now truly clean for the first time in months, I flopped down on the bed and marveled at the clean sheets and soft pillows. This was actually better than any place I had seen Dean and Sam stay, in fact probably the cleanest, nicest bed I had ever been in. I thought of them sadly as I watched Cat perched in the bay window looking out at the garden below. I avoided looking down at it, knowing it would remind me of Dean and his last stand with Lucifer.

The first few days I spent mostly resting and devouring the positively sinful food my host, Margaret, kept providing me. I was one of only two guests in the place and she seemed to enjoy my company, constantly checking one me to make sure I had enough to eat. If I hadn't known better I'd have said Famine was in the vicinity as I felt my jeans getting tighter after only a few days.

Margaret and I talked a lot in those first few days, mainly discussing the Bible and the events of the last year. I was careful not to seem too knowledgeable about it, and she delighted in teaching me about her favorite book of the Bible…Revelation. She told me of reading it over and over and marveling at the Angels…so different from what she had been taught as a young child. _ Warriors of God_ she would say in a booming voice, holding up an imaginary sword. I smiled as I watched her delight in talking about it, but felt guilty for not being able to tell her that she was sitting and talking with one…at least a former one anyway.

Miraculously my little _Den of Antiquity_ had internet access by way of a computer that looked like it had seen better days in the corner of the Sun Room. I was able to figure out the borders of the blast zone and get some idea what the barter rates were. More importantly I found that things were relatively normal in this area of the country aside from the exorbitant cost of everything and the fact that drugs were openly bartered along with anything else of value.

Things seemed to be falling in place for me, but something kept nagging at me...a promise I made years ago when I had the powers and connections of an Angel and could conceivably keep it. My promise to Jimmy…to keep his family safe. I had failed miserably so far, not realizing at the time that just taking Jimmy as my vessel hurt them…and him…more than anything a demon could have done to them. The _Greater Good_ was a cruel mistress.

With trepidation I started looking for information on Pontiac, Illinois. I knew it was inside the blast zone from my earlier forays onto the internet, but maybe I could find Amelia and Claire if they were still alive. It was probably selfish on my part, but I needed to know if they had survived. I had a mission again.

Several hours of searching later I found what I was looking for and sat back in my chair to think. Apparently once the signs of the impending Apocalypse became too frequent to ignore, a coalition of churches had banded together to evacuate people to areas that were furthest away from the epicenter. Jimmy's church was one of those that participated. They had kept meticulous records, which were posted on a webpage dedicated to their efforts to save as many as possible. Names and pictures had been neatly catalogued for the benefit of family members that might be searching for them. A request for additional information could be sent to them and they could choose to answer or not.

Amelia and Claire stared out at me from the screen, their pictures eliciting a response that confused me. I had no real connection to them, but my body seemed to remember a time when it had loved these people and I felt a longing that pulled me in many directions at once. Jimmy was no longer with me, which made the response all the more puzzling. I found my hand reaching out to touch the screen, gently caressing their pictures as though a little part of Jimmy remained. I jumped when I felt a hand on my back and Margaret was there, looking over my shoulder.

"I'm sorry Jimmy. I didn't mean to startle you…are they your family?" she said as she sat down beside me.

"Yes, I guess you could call it that." I said, looking over at her.

"Well, either they are or they are not. I see you have the same last name."

It took me a few seconds to think of a convincing lie and my hesitation seemed to make Margaret suspicious. I couldn't afford to alienate her, since she was my only friend at the moment.

"I'm sorry…it's just…difficult for me to discuss it." I said as I sat back and dropped my hands into my lap. I looked at them and sighed, hoping I was making a convincing enough show of being distraught.

She reached out and took my right hand, squeezing it gently as she said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

Inwardly I breathed a sigh of relief and a way to explain it popped into my mind. "My twin brother, Cas, died in the initial blast wave. Amelia was his wife…Claire his daughter."

"I'm sorry Jimmy, losing a twin must have been especially hard."

I just nodded my head, not knowing what else to say when an image of Dean rose unbidden into my thoughts as it had many times before. The pain of losing him washed over me like a tidal wave, but this time instead of fighting I let it take me. Tears sprang from my eyes for the first time in my human existence and I turned away from Margaret…embarrassed at my lack of control.

Cat chose that moment to jump up into the table, and I had to smile as her tail brushed my face as if she were trying to wipe the tears away. Margaret reached out to pet her and said, "That's why I like my cats…they always seem to know when I need comforting."

I sniffed, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand and smiled weakly at Margaret. "It has been…more difficult than you can imagine."

Of course she didn't know I wasn't talking about my non-existent twin, but the wave of emotion seemed to allay any suspicions my hesitation might have given her. Even though we had developed an easy friendship, I couldn't be sure she would be as friendly if she knew the truth. I was tired of lying about everything, but it couldn't be helped. Maybe one day I could confide in someone, but not this day.

I turned my attention back to the computer screen and placed the cursor over the _Contact_ button, hesitating to click it. Margaret placed her hand over mine and squeezed again before asking, "Are you not sure they will want to see you? Is that the problem?"

"Amelia had some problems dealing with my relationship with Ji-Cas. We did not part on good terms." I said, cringing inwardly at my slip. The statement was true, but I had tripped over my own lies.

"You almost called him Jimmy…that's your name." Margaret said, the air of suspicion returning.

My mind raced, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. Then I thought about the rarity of my real name among humans and concluded it would not be usual for someone to hate that name, and the explanation it invariably required.

"Our mother named him after Castiel, the Angel of Thursday; he disliked it since everyone was always asking what it meant. I was first born, so he started calling himself _Jimmy 2 _when we were children." I said, looking hopefully at Margaret.

"Castiel…what a beautiful name. It's a shame he didn't like it." she said, her look of suspicion slipping away.

"He came appreciate having an unusual name as he grew older and quit using the nickname, but I find…or rather found it difficult to call him Castiel after so many years."

"So are you going to get in touch with Amelia and Claire?" she said, apparently accepting my rather lame explanation.

"I don't know. I want to know if they survived…I promised to look after them."

"That's understandable, but what do you have to lose? If they don't answer your request for information then you tried at least. You will have kept your promise as much as they would let you." she said, rising from the chair and laying her hand on my shoulder.

As she left the room I turned my attention back to the screen and clicked the button. She was right, I had nothing to lose, but I hesitated when I looked at the Name field. If I entered _Castiel_ it might raise some flags I preferred not to have raised. My name was on that blacklist so I had to be careful. I had no surname, and Amelia would probably find it presumptuous of me to use Novak.

After thinking about it for what seemed like hours I finally entered _Cas Angel, _knowing that Angel was a relatively common surname. I filled in the number of my recently acquired cell phone and logged off. I erased my searches from the computer as Sam had taught me many years ago. I had my doubts that Margaret would be technologically inclined enough to look, but I wasn't taking any chances.

I returned to my room with Cat following close behind, and flopped onto the bed exhausted from the effort it took to construct all those lies. For a moment all I wanted to do was get in the truck and return to Camp Chitaqua, leaving people behind forever. That was the coward's way out, though. Cat curled up beside me and I was lulled to sleep by the sonorous sound of her purring. 


	3. A Normal Life

_**I finally managed to eek out a Chapter on a multi-parter! YAY! I've also been experimenting with converting my fics to Kindle format (real Kindle format not EPUB or PDF) so if there are any of mine you would like to see converted shoot me a message. As always I own nothing but the plot. Damn you Eric Kripke! **_

_**Please review if you will. Reviews...like Castiel's cheeseburgers...make me very happy! (and also serve to kick my muse's ass into gear.**_

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><p><em><strong>A Normal Life<strong>_

Several months went by and I thought of my as yet unanswered communication request less and less. People were actually beginning to appear on the Parkway for sightseeing trips for the first time in years and the Den of Antiquity was more and more likely to be fully booked on weekends. This prompted Margaret to offer me a job as her handy man/bellboy one day on the Sun Room.

"That do nothing son of mine would rather sit on his ass at the gas station and I need help here." Margaret said with an exasperated sigh.

I had actually gotten to know him in the months I had been here and Mark was a pretty good guy to know in the post-apocalyptic era. He knew where to find everything...and if he didn't he knew someone that did. He reminded me very much of a young Bobby Singer. He actually worked pretty hard at it so I was slightly taken aback when Margaret said what she did.

"Margaret, you know Mark provides a good service up there. He makes contacts when people stop in, locates things people can't get any other way. Things people need."

"Yes, Jimmy. I know. It just doesn't seem Christian though…the obscene amount of money he makes off of it." She sighed and turned to adjust the hang of the picture beside of the door. The one of my brother…the Archangel Gabriel.

"Well Margaret, Fa-God works in mysterious ways. Someone is going to make that money these days, so it might as well be a good Christian family like yours." I said, correcting myself when I almost said Father.

I still had a hard time remembering that none of my current friends knew anything my former incarnation and I frequently slipped up on that. One of these days Margaret was going to ask me about it. I was just hoping her pre-occupation with Mark and his somewhat nefarious dealings would prevent her from noticing…at least for today.

"I suppose. He did get the equipment that the hospital needed so badly…and the orphanage. He got all that stuff donated. So are you going to help me out, Jimmy?"

I rubbed my still rather painful knee and looked at her intently. "You know this old injury slows me down. I won't be able to do things like an able bodied younger man can."

Margaret leaned over and patted my knee. "I know, sweetie. It's not like people come here with lots of heavy luggage since they usually just stay a few days. I just need help with little things. You'll get room and board out of it."

I thought about for a few seconds and realized I had no where else to be unless Amelia or Claire contacted me, so I decided that I would give it a try. At least if I could earn my keep I wouldn't have to worry about where my dwindling supply of money was coming from. As much as the Winchesters had inadvertently taught me about less than noble ways of acquiring money, I really didn't want to test my ability to actually do it. "I'll do it, but only if you promise to tell me if I'm not pulling my weight."

"I'm sure you'll be fine. If it bothers you then you should see a doctor now that things are back to normal around here."

I hadn't even thought of doing so. At Camp Chitaqua we never had the luxury of going to a doctor. We were lucky if the camp actually housed a living, breathing medical person of any kind, although Dean tried to make sure we always had someone. Being a former Angel it just didn't occur to me, and I was somewhat leery of having to explain how it happened. "No. I'm sure there is probably nothing that can be done at this point if they couldn't fix it to begin with."

I was probably an idiot for not getting it looked at. I had led her to believe it was a fairly old injury, but in truth it was probably fresh enough that something could be done if I just let someone look at it. I also didn't relish the possibility of being laid up if there _was_ something they _could_do. Those 2 months after I broke my foot were the most miserable ones of my short human life and I wasn't ready to do it again.

* * *

><p>Several weeks went by and although my knee ached terribly at the end of each day, I was getting things done. I also enjoyed meeting the people that came and went. I had never actually been able to meet people and make friends outside of the small circle of friends that the boys had, and I found I was particularly fond of that part of the job. I sometimes wondered why the women seemed to carry bricks in their luggage, but for the most part only had trouble with the heaviest bags. I was also introduced to the human custom of tipping.<p>

At first I was confused when people started slipping me money discreetly, but since so many people did it I assumed it was customary. Mark saved me the trouble of asking Margaret and revealing myself to be clueless on one other aspect of humanity by commenting on it one day.

"Looks like the ladies think you are hot, dude. You need to take advantage of that." Mark said as he came into the Sun Room and flopped down on the couch.

"Why do you say that?" I asked from the top of the ladder I was using to change a light bulb.

"The tips, man. Haven't you noticed that the ladies tip you more than the men, especially when you bend over and show them that tight ass of yours?"

The proverbial light bulb went on in my head just as the light fixture I was tending to came to life again. I _had_ actually noticed the ladies checking me out. After all I had spent a great deal of time acting as the camp's resident hedonist, and the pleasures of the flesh were no longer a mystery to me. It just took that little push from Mark to help me connect the dots. The more I flirted with them the more money they gave me. Simple. The strange thing was I no longer had any desire to be that person. It was almost as if that Cas was a dream…or a nightmare of mine.

"Any of them fine ladies slipped you their key yet?" Mark said as he winked at me.

"Um, no." I answered a little too quickly. They had, but I had so far resisted the urge to take advantage. That was one thing I had seen happen with Dean, so that part I understood. One particularly enterprising young lady had actually cornered me on the third floor landing after several days of my avoiding her. I declined politely, but she didn't give up until the day she checked out…casting a disappointed look in my direction as she departed. Even though I enjoyed sex immensely, it just didn't interest me anymore as a casual activity.

I had every excuse to fall off the wagon and start self medicating again. My knee became more and more of a hindrance as I tried to do all the things Margaret needed of me. There were many nights when the dull throb of my knee almost drove me to my hidden stash, but I winced through the pain and did my job. Dean would probably say that the stick up my ass had returned. Maybe it had.

Mark actually helped me out a fair bit after I talked to him about my difficulty with getting the heavy luggage up the stairs. He knew of an old dumbwaiter that had been covered over when the house was renovated, and we worked together to uncover it and get it working again. It was just the right size to handle most of the bags that people brought in, as well as providing us with a new way to deliver room service. Margaret was pleased to see Mark taking an interest too. His business was going so well that he had hired other people to do most of the work and was spending more time at the Inn. This began to worry me as my workload decreased and he started helping out more and more.

It was a slow weekday with no one checked in, so I was taking a break in the Sun Room with my leg propped up to ease the pain in my knee a bit. As I kneaded the sore muscles in my thigh Margaret walked in and frowned at me. I immediately jumped up and apologized for slacking off on the job.

"I'm sorry. I just needed to rest my knee a minute. Was there something you needed?" I asked worriedly.

"Sit, Jimmy. Put that leg up." Margaret said as she pointed sternly at the couch. "You make me sound like a slave driver."

"Yes, ma'am." I meekly sat back down and put my leg up on the ottoman.

She sat down beside of me and didn't say anything for a minute or two. I just sat there and stared at my hands, since it seemed she was getting up the courage to say something. I jumped when she finally spoke up.

"Jimmy. I needed to talk to you about that."

"About what?"

"Your knee. It's getting worse isn't it?"

I didn't want to admit it, but she was right. The dull throb had become more of a sharp pain when I did too much. I sighed and looked into her eyes. "Yes. I'm sorry. I just don't think my knee is cut out for this."

"I've noticed. That's why I talked to Mark and he's been helping you. The thing is that even with help you can't go on like this."

"No, Margaret. I can't." I sighed and looked at down at my hands again.

"Well I have a plan. If you'll let Mark and me help you that is. I know you probably don't have a lot of money…coming from the blast zone like you did."

She slipped that last part in so smoothly I almost missed it. My head snapped up and I caught her eyes with mine. She gave me a knowing nod. I sat there for a moment and weighed the options. My reaction probably confirmed her suspicion, but there was a chance I could save it by claiming shock that she would accuse me of something that wasn't true. Pile more lies on top of other lies? Tell the truth and risk getting run out of town by an angry mob? I needed to come clean to somebody. Keeping up the pretense everyday was weighing on me almost as much as the pain in my knee.

"How did you know?" I asked quietly.

"Well, the timing for one. You were the first person from outside the area to come through here after we received word that it was over. I took the liberty of looking at the things in your truck right after you first arrived too. The weapons and gasoline containers? Kind of a dead giveaway you weren't coming from somewhere _normal_."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"You looked…trustworthy…and like you needed a helping hand. Of course the fact that you brought Cat with you sold me immediately. Cat people can be trusted."

As if she knew we were talking about her, Cat chose that moment to stroll into the room and jump up on the couch. I pulled her to my chest and rubbed under her chin until she started purring…more to collect my thoughts than anything. "So….what now? Do you want me to leave?"

"Heavens no! I just wanted you to know so you could relax around someone for a change. You're so tense all the time it hurts me to watch you."

I chuckled a little, and reached for her hand. "I'm sorry. I was alone and I was in the middle of things for so long I didn't know if there was anyone on the outside I could trust."

The thought was still at the back of my mind that she was setting me up for something, even though I was fairly certain she wouldn't rat me out. There was still a large and rather vocal group of people searching for anyone that brought on the downfall of civilization as they knew it. They could have gotten to her. My eyes flicked to the door as the chime announcing an arrival sounded. The local Chief of Police stepped into the foyer and my eyes shot back to Margaret's in fear. She smiled and squeezed my hand.

"Good afternoon, Chief! What brings you this way?" Margaret said as she rose to meet him before he could come any closer.

"Just checking in. We had some reports of vandals in the neighborhood last night and I wanted to know if you had any trouble."

"No…but Daisy West two doors down called to tell me she did this morning. Have you talked to her?"

Inwardly I breathed a sigh of relief. The Chief's arrival couldn't have been worse timing, but it seemed innocent enough. The conversation droned on as I turned things over in my mind. How much should I tell her? I really wanted to just unload everything and be done with it regardless of what happened, but I also knew that just by knowing she could be in danger. I didn't want to endanger her any more than she already was just by my being here. I decided to admit my deceit, but I wasn't going to lay everything on the table. As much as I longed to just be myself, I couldn't risk putting my new friends in danger. I watched as she saw the Chief out and came back to sit beside me.

"So where were we?" she said, taking my hand and squeezing it tightly.

I looked at her and pursed my lips tightly before speaking. "You want to know everything…I know…but you have to know that anything I tell you could put you in danger."

"I know. I don't care."

"You should. There are people out there that would shoot me on sight if they knew who I was."

"I know I should, but God spoke to me. He told me you are a….good person and you need a friend you can trust."

If Father was speaking to _anyone _it was news to me. Briefly I considered that maybe something was controlling her somehow, making her think that God was speaking to her. Lucifer could easily be doing so. I suppose it would have been obvious to anyone that knew me that faith was something I had very little of these days, but I couldn't merely _exist _here forever in my tangle of lies. I had to take that leap of faith. I looked at her intently and her eyes slid away from mine to a point above my shoulders. It occurred to me that he had hesitated slightly when she stated what God had told her.

"What did He really say?"

She raised her eyes to the ceiling and shut them briefly. "He said you used to be an Angel."

"And you believe Him?"

"I do. There's something about you. I can't put my finger on it, but somehow you are different. There has to be a reason you showed up here…and almost every time you mention God you stumble like you were about to say Father. He is isn't he? Your Father?"

She had me there. This could still be a well thought out plan by demons or Lucifer to trick me into confessing to her. I took a deep breath and rubbed my face with my hand. If there was something afoot I owed it to her to get to the bottom of it. If there wasn't then I had nothing to lose. I took the plunge. I laid every card in the deck on the table…including the Jokers.

"My real name is Castiel. I used to be the Angel of Thursday."

I expected her to shoot me a look of disbelief, or tell me I was crazy, but she did neither.

"You fell?"

I chuckled. "It was more like a slow-motion descent into humanity."

"You chose to?"

"Not exactly. I chose to fight Lucifer alongside my friends. When the other Angels left and went back to Heaven, my connection to them slowly drained away."

"I'm sorry. That must have been difficult."

"I mostly didn't care at the time. I…um found other ways to fly."

Her eyes flicked to that point above my shoulders again and she asked the question with her eyes.

"Yes, I had wings. You wouldn't have been able to see them though."

"Other ways to fly…you mean drugs?"

"Drugs, copious quantities of alcohol…and women. From Angel of the Lord to hedonistic asshole in about 3 months." I shrugged and looked at her to gauge her reaction. I was sure she would be throwing me out at any moment, but at least someone in this world knew who I was besides me.

She looked at me for a moment and then said simply, "I understand."

I took the time to look at her more carefully and I could see something there in her eyes I had never noticed before. "You…used to have a problem with them? Drugs, I mean?"

"No…in my case alcohol…and sex. I may look like a fine upstanding citizen now, but I was once the town slut and town drunk. Mark was a result of that."

"But you overcame it. That's what counts. I'm sure Father has forgiven you for that by now."

She looked at me quizzically for a moment. "But you _aren't_ sure are you? You say the words, but you don't seem to believe it."

Damn she was good. Obviously, she had been watching me more carefully than I was aware of. Either that or she was just unbelievably perceptive.

"No. It's been a long time since I had faith."

"But why? You're an Angel. You've seen God."

I sighed and shifted uncomfortably. I didn't want to blow this woman's faith out of the water, even if no one was listening. It was probably her faith that helped her overcome her addictions. I lied. "Yes, but once the events unfolded that brought about the apocalypse and he didn't intervene I became somewhat disillusioned. I guess I still am."

"So Angels have Daddy issues too?"

I laughed…in fact I laughed harder than I had in a long time. "Yes, Angels have Daddy issues. Lucifer is proof of that I suppose."

She smiled briefly and then frowned. "Lucifer is still walking the earth."

"Yes, unfortunately my friends and I failed to put a stop to all of this."

"You fought the actual battle?"

"I did. I was the only one left standing as far as I know."

"And your knee…that was then?"

"Yes, a Demon with a shotgun."

"And what does Lucifer want now? Why is he letting things get back to normal?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. I have no idea. Maybe once he killed Dean Winchester he really didn't care anymore. No one to toy with."

She sat back and took a deep breath. "Well hell. I guess I got more than I bargained for when I came in here."

"Um, you started the conversation with my knee. Was that just something to ease into it?"

"Actually no. It just…happened. I had no intention of asking today...I actually had no intention of asking at all. I was beginning to think I was going crazy, especially since we talked so much about Revelation and the Angels. Then God just happens to pop into my head and tell me you are one?

I raised an eyebrow at her and squeezed her hand gently. I actually wanted to hug her for finally helping me do what I hadn't had the courage to. Admit to someone…anyone…who I was. I wasn't going to tell her that I still suspected deep down that it wasn't God that spoke to her, especially when she was so believing now that I had laid everything bare. That could wait until I had some answers. I wasn't quite sure how I was going to get them, but I knew I had to try.

I shifted uncomfortably, knowing she was probably going to make me see a doctor. "Well, what did you want to ask me?"

"I made an appointment for you Friday with the best orthopedic doctor Mark could find nearby. He's in Asheville.

I laughed. "That wasn't a question."

"No it was an order. You are too young to be hobbling around here like an old man, and it will only get worse if you ignore it."

"Well the truth is I'm several millennia old, but I guess that doesn't mean much these days."

"No…not unless your Daddy is gonna turn up and Angel-fy you again."

I laughed again…really more of a giggle. Here I was older than dirt, taking orders from a woman who had been on earth a mere split second of time compared to me. I never had a mother, so supposed she would be a good a surrogate.

I stood up and gasped as I took to much weight on my bad knee. "I will carry out your orders."

Just be ready to go at 8. It will take us about an hour to get there."

"You don't need to go. Who will take care of things here?"

She grinned at me slyly. "Mark is going to do it. I'm going to make sure you go through with it. I may not know much about real Angels, but I know enough about young men to know they aren't going to like it if they get laid up, so I'm not taking any chances you will report back there is nothing they can do when there is!"


	4. Worlds Collide

_**Worlds Collide**_

After agreeing to Margaret's request…well demand…that I have my knee taken care of I showed up at the doctor's office obediently with Margaret by my side. It felt pretty good to have a friend with me as I fidgeted in the waiting room. I still wasn't sure there was anything they could do and also uncomfortable with the possibility that a knee that had been blasted through with a shotgun would raise questions. I couldn't live the rest of my life like this though. Lucifer was still out there somewhere and he wasn't done with us. I needed to be able to fight should the time come that I was called to do so again. Without Dean and Sam to help me fight I wasn't sure how I would do it, but if it meant hooking up with other hunters I would.

I was at least confident that my personal details and documents would pass inspection for the first time ever. After our heart to heart talk, Margaret brought Mark up to speed with my permission. He was able to procure a birth certificate and Social Security Card for me. With those I was able to get a valid driver's license. I had no Health Insurance, but Margaret convinced Mark it was their Christian duty to help me out so he somewhat reluctantly parted with the money to pay for anything that needed to be done.

When the receptionist asked for my information I handed it to her confidently. I wasn't Jimmy Novak anymore. I was Cassidy James Angell, nephew of Margaret. I had met only a few people in the community other than Margaret and Mark that would know me as Jimmy, so we decided together that getting rid of any connection to him was probably a good idea. The middle name would take care of anyone that called me Jimmy, and the only other person that I had told my surname was the Park Ranger. I was hopeful he wouldn't remember if I happened to run into him. A little nervousness returned as the woman sifted through the papers in front of her.

She looked up at me and smiled. "Do you go by Cassidy or James?"

"Neither…just Cas." It felt good to finally have my name back. Inwardly a breathed a sigh a relief, the hard part was over…now if the Doctor wasn't too curious we could all relax.

I sat down and fidgeted some more until Margaret reached over and stilled my good knee. "Sorry. I'm just a bit nervous."

We were alone in the waiting room, but Margaret still looked around to make sure no one could hear. I think she was enjoying the cloak and dagger nature of our adventure. "First time at the doctor?"

"Actually no. I was in the hospital once. After I…well let's just say I did something rather daring. It nearly killed me, but ended up just rendering me nearly human."

"When was this?"

"The first time we stopped the Apocalypse."

She looked at me strangely and I questioned with my eyes.

"They found you off Delacroix Island?"

"Yes, but how did you know?"

"My cousin Sherry. She was your nurse. She told me about this strange man that came in. As soon as you said you had been in the hospital I remembered her description. It had to be you."

Small world. I found it somewhat unsettling that something that happened so far away had a connection to my present circumstances. It seemed….like Fate. I didn't have much time to examine it before the nurse was calling me.

I put on a brave face and marched to the inquisition. It was easier than I thought it would be. Apparently in the post-apocalyptic world a knee full of buckshot wasn't an uncommon occurrence, so the doctor didn't even bother to ask. He just looked at the results of the MRI I had done the day before, went _hmmmm_ a few times and then started pointing at it and explaining what needed to be done. I listened and nodded as if I understood the medical jargon he was spouting at me, hoping that Margaret was more knowledgeable than I. The only words I heard and understood were _surgery_ and _cadaver_. After that I just stared blankly at Margaret as she asked questions about how to take care of me afterwards and let the words wash over me.

**_XXX_**

Surgery was scheduled and I reluctantly packed a bag. Margaret knocked on the door frame just as I zipped it up.

"You ready?"

I frowned and then sighed. "As ready as I'm going to be. I don't like the thought of being laid up…again. Something could happen and I couldn't protect myself…or you."

"And you could the way you are?"

"Probably not." I conceded.

"Just get it over with. Mark and I will be here to help you. Mark is going to move your stuff down to a room on the ground floor while you are in the hospital. That way you won't have to navigate the stairs."

"I'm not so much worried about that as I am the pain meds they will give me. What if I…what if they make me want it again?"

"I'll be right there with you. I won't let that happen if I can help it."

"I hope so."

I picked up my bag reluctantly and petted Cat one last time. "You behave for Mark. I'll be back soon."

Cat looked at me, let out a huge yawn and curled up on my pillow.

"Glad you're so broken up about me leaving, you furry traitor!"

As I laughed at her I heard the somewhat unfamiliar ringing of my cell phone. No one actually had the number except Margaret and Mark, so I rarely had occasion to answer a call. I looked down at the screen to see the incoming call was from a blocked number. I cautiously answered it, but all I heard was a rustle and click on the other end before the call disconnected. I had to think about it a moment and then it dawned on me. Amelia and Claire also had the number if they had seen my request. Was it one of them? I quickly pocketed the phone, and tried to look normal even though my heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest.

"Was that Mark?"

"Wrong number I guess…they just hung up." My mind was racing…trying to figure out what to do about it. One of Mark's business acquaintances could probably trace the call, but I didn't have time to let him know about it. It would have to wait until I was out of the hospital.

"OK well we better get going."

"If I must."

**_XXX_**

I heard the sound of voices, but the anesthesia still had a strong hold on me. It felt familiar…too familiar. I fought against it, not wanting to enjoy the feeling of drugged out bliss. As I struggled I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Mr. Angell? Can you hear me? Just relax. Give the drugs a chance to wear off."

I was finally able to open my eyes and looked up at her. She smiled and patted my arm. "Surgery went very well. You'll be up and around in no time."

Just as I was about to close my eyes and succumb to sleep again, someone else entered the room and spoke. She sounded familiar, but I didn't know why. I blinked groggily and turned my head toward the door. At first everything was blurry, then as things came into focus I stared into the shocked face of Amelia Novak.

Before I knew what was happening, her eyes rolled back in her head and she passed out into the arms of the nurse standing near the door. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, wishing I could think more clearly. What was she doing here, and better yet was she looking for me? As everyone in the room scrambled to assist her, my first thought was that I had to get out of there. If I wasn't there when she woke up maybe she would just think she had mistaken me for _him_. It didn't occur to me that I was going to fail miserably. With all eyes in the room on her I threw back the covers and stood up, without thinking about the fact that my knee wasn't going to hold me up. A sharp pain shot up my leg and I toppled to the floor, joining Amelia in unconsciousness.

When I woke up I was vaguely aware that I was somewhere else. Margaret was sitting in a chair to my left, snoring softly. I tried to speak but all that came out was a dry croak. Margaret stirred and looked over at me.

"So do you always try to leave hospitals without being seen?"

I assumed that was a reference to the vanishing act I managed to pull off in Louisiana. "No. Sorry…what happened? I don't remember."

You tried to get up in the recovery room. Some lady came into the wrong room and passed out so no one was watching you."

It all came flooding back. "Amelia."

"Who's Amelia?"

"The woman that came in and passed out."

"You know her? She was just in the wrong room."

I tried to sit up, but my arms didn't seem to have the strength to pull me up. Margaret got up and helped me to a more upright position and I winced as a twinge of pain cut through my knee again. The effort left me out of breath and I fell back onto the pillows with a huff. Getting my knee fixed _was _a bad idea.

I gathered my thoughts and tried to decide what to tell Margaret. "She's…she's…you probably aren't going to like this."

"Why not? Is she someone dangerous? Like from before?"

I sighed. This was going to be harder to explain that the rest of it, but she deserved to know the whole story. "Yes, from before. She's…the wife—"

I was interrupted as a nurse came into the room and Margaret looked at me quizzically. Not a good place to end a sentence. The nurse checked my vitals and I watched Margaret squirm, wanting to know what I was about to say. I didn't get the chance to finish for a good while after that, as the nurse declared that it was time for me to get up and start moving around. As she adjusted some crutches for me I caught Margaret glaring at me in frustration, but there was nothing I could do but obediently go with the nurse and make my way down the hall under her watchful eye.

I never had the luxury of crutches when I broke my foot. The camp had some, but Dean pointedly made sure that only those that were _useful _got to use them. I was left to languish in my cabin with only my girls and an old beat up cane to help me get around. I guess it was his way of punishing me for my hedonistic ways. I practiced with them until I was exhausted…not really wanting to go back and finish the conversation, but knowing I had to. The nurse finally noticed I was tiring and ushered me back to the room after about 30 minutes. I suppose I should have been worried that I would run into Amelia again, but that didn't cross my mind until later. I was too busy trying to think of a way to explain it to Margaret in a way that didn't involve making Angels look like total dicks. I came to the conclusion that it wasn't possible. Dean was right. We…they were pretty much dicks.

Once I was back in my room I took my time getting back into bed, and let the nurse fuss over me as long as she wanted to. Margaret, meanwhile, was glaring daggers at her trying to signal her to leave. She finally took the hint and left the room. Margaret cleared her throat pointedly.

I sighed and picked at the covers for a second before I opened my mouth and delivered the words that would have Margaret reeling for several days once I had elaborated. "Amelia is….or was the wife of my vessel. This body."

"What do you mean _this body_?

"Angels are unable to appear on earth in their true form. It's necessary for us…them…to take a vessel. A human body that they um…inhabit for the purposes of interacting with humans."

"You mean like possess…like demons?" Her tone indicated she wasn't exactly going to be pleased to hear me say that.

"No…well sort of. Demons do not need permission. Angels do."

"And exactly how do you go about getting permission?"

"Um…convince them that they have a calling from God."

Margaret sat there for a moment and didn't say anything. I didn't either. I didn't want to go too far unless she asked.

"So these people that agree to become vessels. What happens to them? Do they die?"

I closed my eyes and tried to think of a way to explain that didn't sound horrible. There just wasn't one. "No, they are still in there, shielded by Grace. They don't remember anything…much.

Margaret's eyes went wide and she glared at me again, then her voice rose about an octave as she practically screamed at me. "_He's still in there_?"

I lowered my eyes and looked at my hands. "No. Jimmy's soul was destroyed when Lucifer vaporized me several years ago. He has gone to his reward."

"But _you _are still here. What kind of reward could _possibly_make up for that? What about his family…Amelia?" She hissed.

"I don't know. At the time I was a Warrior of God…following my orders. I really didn't consider the ramifications to the human lives I was about to destroy. All I was thinking of was the greater good…stopping the Apocalypse."

I tried to look at contrite as possible, but Margaret got up and stormed out of the room without looking back. I wanted to run after her, but as I threw back the covers the sight of the brace on my leg reminded me that I wasn't going anywhere very fast and she would be long gone before I could even make it to the door. I fell back onto the pillows with a sigh. I was once again alone in a hospital, but this time I had no one to call. For the first time in my existence I had no idea what to do.

After lying there several minutes I decided that the one thing I knew I had to do was find out where Amelia Novak was and why she was here. That call I got before I came here…was that her? Did she call and hang up? She would have known by the area code from the contact number I left generally where I was. I hadn't thought of that. I rang for the nurse and waited impatiently. By the time she walked into the room I was already up.

"You shouldn't be up too much to begin with. You've probably had enough for the first day." She said, trying to guide me back toward the bed.

"I need to find out if that woman that passed out in the recovery room is OK."

"Well just sit down in the chair and I'll see what I can find out. No need for you to overtax yourself until I know if she's even still here. Most people are sound asleep after a day like you've had."

I smiled at her weakly as I eased myself down into the chair. "I have a certain tolerance for drugs...and pain."

"Well you need to rest anyway. I'll be back shortly."

I picked up the magazine Margaret had left behind and flipped through it mindlessly. I wasn't even really looking at it, but it served to give me something to do. I was still a little groggy even _with_ my aforementioned tolerance. What would I say to Amelia if she was still here? What would _she_say to me? That last part was what I was most concerned about. I didn't have much time to think about it before I heard a commotion in the hall and looked up to see Amelia standing in the doorway. She didn't look pleased to see me.

"Castiel." She said simply as she closed the door in the nurse's face.

Without thinking I jumped up to offer her the chair and immediately regretted it. The pain that shot up my leg was so intense it brought tears to my eyes and I wondered if getting my knee fixed was going to do more harm than good. She hesitated briefly before helping me to sit on the edge of the bed and then quickly sat down in the chair.

We both sat there for a few seconds staring at anything but each other. She was probably as much at a loss for words as I was.

I took a deep breath and jumped in. "Amelia, I'm so sorry."

"For what? Taking my husband and ruining my life?" she replied angrily…still staring at the wall across the room.

"For everything. If I had it to do over-"

"What? You'd find another way? We both know that wasn't possible."

"Please believe me. I didn't realize. I thought I was doing God's work."

"You _thought_? You should have thought harder!"

I could tell she was seething at this point, and probably because she never got a chance to say goodbye…never got a chance to yell and scream at me and get it out. She had probably been holding it all in since that night in the warehouse when her short lived dream that it was all over come crashing down around her.

"I was an Angel. I was built to follow orders. I did what I thought God was asking me to do."

"But it wasn't was it? God?"

"No."

She still wasn't looking at me and I could understand why. I could almost see the thoughts turning in her head. So many questions she needed answers for, and at the same time didn't really want to know. I was fairly certain I knew the next one so I saved her the trouble of asking.

"Jimmy…he's gone."

"How?"

"Lucifer."

"How long?"

"Several years ago."

She finally turned to face me and looked deep into my eyes. I guess she was looking for Jimmy…making sure that she couldn't see any of him in me. "Why do you get to still be here and he doesn't?"

"I don't know. If I could I would give it all back."

I hadn't actually thought about it before I said it, but I was certain in that moment that if I had a way to give Jimmy his body and his life back I would do it willingly…regardless of the cost to myself.

"Why can't you? You're an Angel. Aren't you supposed to be able to do those things?"

"I am no longer an Angel, in case you hadn't noticed. I haven't been for a very long time."

"Punishment?"

"Of a sort I suppose. I'm as human as you are or I wouldn't be here."

Her anger seemed to dissipate at that point and she looked down at the brace on my leg. She smiled sadly and then absently ran her finger down the crutches which were still leaning against the chair. "Putting it back like it was? Jimmy's body?"

I wrinkled my brow in confusion and then thought back to the day I took Jimmy as my vessel. It was such a small thing at the time I almost didn't remember healing an old injury in Jimmy's knee before I went to find Dean. Apparently I _was_putting it back like it was in a way. It was obvious she was remembering something dear to her by the look on her face.

"When was that?" I asked softly.

"Right after I found out I was pregnant with Claire. I hadn't told Jimmy yet. He had been suffering with his knee for a long time, but he was too stubborn to get it fixed. It gave out on him coming down the stairs the same day I found out, so before I picked him up off the floor I told him it was time to get it fixed…that he couldn't afford to be falling down the stairs when he was carrying his baby son or daughter."

She smiled in earnest then, but her smile quickly turned back to a frown as she looked away again. "He was so excited about being a father. He made the appointment to see about getting it fixed the next day." She said wistfully.

My heart clenched in my chest and I realized that even though I was remorseful for what I did to Jimmy and his family, I hadn't ever really thought of him as a flesh and blood human being. One with feelings and memories of joyous events like the birth of his daughter…his marriage to Amelia. I had taken that all away and replaced it with pain…for all of them. I felt the tears coming, but I didn't try to stop them.

"I'm _so _sorry. I wish there was something I could to do make it right."

I wiped my face with the back of my hand and looked at her until she finally turned to look at me again. She pursed her lips and then took a deep breath before she spoke.

"I believe you. I don't forgive you _yet_, but I believe you would make it right if there was a way."

"I would. My purpose on earth has been served. I really have nothing more to give as a human."

"No, you aren't done. Lucifer still walks the earth. If Jimmy's sacrifice…our sacrifice means anything to you, then you'll make that right before you give up."

"I tried. That's why I'm here with a shot up knee…why I'm alone. My friends are all dead and I just alienated one of the few new ones I had by trying to explain _you_to her."

"Girlfriend?"

I snorted softly at that. "No, just a friend. Someone that took me in when I needed a place to stay."

"She knows?"

"Yes, she does."

Amelia was quiet for several minutes after that…just looking at me closely. I didn't say anything…I just watched her watch me.

"I thought I would see too much of him in you to be comfortable, but you move differently. You certainly sound different. It's strange. The eyes though…they are the same…even an Angel couldn't improve on those. You know they make women melt don't you?"

She was fishing…wanting to know if I had used Jimmy's body for sexual pursuits. I really didn't want to tell her about the orgies since it seemed she was warming up to me. "I'm…aware."

"No girlfriend?"

"No, just a cat."

Amelia huffed a small laugh. "You really are a different person. Jimmy was allergic to cats. Claire wanted one so badly, but she couldn't have one."

"I suppose I fixed that too."

She was quiet for another moment then she got up and looked me over carefully again. "Well…um…I better get going. I need to get back to Claire."

I had been hesitant to ask why she was here for some reason, but she gave me the opening I needed. "Is she OK?"

She took a deep breath and smiled. "Oh, she's fine. Jimmy would be a Grandfather now...I'm a…Grandmother. It's a boy."

My eyebrows climbed up into my hairline at that. Claire was too young to be a mother. Not physically of course, but still. It hit me even harder what I had taken from Jimmy, Amelia, Claire and now a new person that would never know Jimmy. It certainly raised an interesting philosophical question…biologically I was the boy's Grandfather, but what was I to him really? I wasn't sure what to say, but Amelia seemed to be waiting for a reply.

"I-um…congratulations?" Even though I had been human for several years I had little experience with joyous events like childbirth. We had a few children born in the camp, but I was usually too stoned or wasted to notice. It was a minor miracle that I had no children as a result of my free love experiments. I only knew what this world saw as my Father's views on the subject. It was unlikely Claire was married, so I wasn't sure if the previously devout Amelia would be pleased or not. Of course my appearance in her life and the events that followed probably served to render her less devout.

Amelia seemed amused by my reaction. She laughed and made a dismissive motion with her hand. "It's weird I know. We were packed in to the compound they took us to…thinking the world was about to end. When she struck up a friendship with a boy I was apprehensive at first, but he's a fine young man. She came to me and asked about love and sex. We had a long talk and I realized that if the world did end I wanted her to know those things even if she is so young…so I made sure she knew about protection and gave her my blessing. Nine months later and I'm pretty sure those old condoms that were hidden away in my suitcase for some reason were defective."

I was getting more confused by the minute by Amelia's about face since she came into my room. She was talking to me now like an old friend…not the person that destroyed her life. Quite the change in attitude for the few minutes we had been talking. I looked at her quizzically.

She smiled again. "Look Castiel…I was ready to storm in here and tear you a new one, but you aren't what I expected. Jimmy did what he thought he was called to do, you did what you thought you were ordered to do. The person I'm still angry with is the dick that started it all in the first place and I don't even know who that is."

I sighed. She wasn't alone in that. "To be honest I still don't know. The orders came from higher up than the ones I brought down to try to make it right."

She looked at me thoughtfully for a moment and then squared her shoulders purposefully as if she had made a decision. "I'm glad I took a wrong turn. I think I've finally made peace with all of this."

I relaxed a bit and smiled at her. "I hope so. What about Claire? Will she understand?"

She burst out laughing at that. "She's been OK with it since that day in the warehouse. Kept telling me you were just as conflicted about it as any of us and I needed to get over it. The minute you posted your number she was ready to call…knew it had to be you. Apparently you made quite an impression in the few minutes you used her for your vessel…and of course seeing the sacrifice Jimmy was willing to make for her. She's good…in fact when I told her you were here she wanted to come see you immediately."

That threw me a bit, since vessels usually don't remember much about being inhabited by an Angel. I suppose in hindsight I was a little off balance in that little girl's body. I must have failed to shield her as I did Jimmy. She probably remembered everything…including my own thoughts at the time. "She remembers?"

"Yes…every moment. I was worried for a while that something would come after her for it, but I relaxed after a while. Nothing ever happened."

"I branded her ribs with sigils and wards before I left her. They keep both Angels and Demons from finding her. I was determined after that to make sure I didn't screw up my promise to Jimmy...again."

"Thank you for that. I wish I had known though…would've saved me a lot of worry."

"I wonder why she didn't tell you if she remembers all of it?"

"Probably because I never took what she said to heart. I was still hell bent on being angry with you. She didn't give up though."

"That was you that called yesterday?"

"Yes. Claire asked me once again to do it, but when I heard you answer I couldn't bring myself to say anything. After we left the compound and moved here she started pestering me since the area code was the same. I'm surprised she didn't call you herself, but I told her I wasn't ready. She respected my wishes."

"She's a very remarkable girl…in more ways than one."

"Yes, she is. I was so intent on believing that her experience with you had to be something awful, that I just didn't see that she was…like her father…strong enough to handle it."

"She certainly was. Tell her I said congratulations."

"Would you like to go see her? I know she won't rest until she gets to talk to you."

I wasn't sure that I was ready to see her. From what Amelia had told me she seemed at peace with me and what I had done. I didn't want to risk that by showing her the broken human being I had become. Would she think her sacrifice was for nothing when she saw the very human me? Thinking back to my musings about Fate when I found out about Margaret's cousin being my nurse I laughed. If this many connections to my past were showing up all at once, I guess it was inevitable that I would see her and now was as good a time as any.

"What's so funny?"

"Too many worlds are colliding this week."

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><p><strong>I couldn't find any references to just how old Claire was in "The Rapture", but I am assuming 10 or 11 for the purposes of this story. That would make her 15 or 16 in 2014. I have seen way too many stories that took Claire to a bad place after that episode, so I wanted to write this one so she was actually as strong as her Dad and OK with the whole thing. <strong>

**Anyway I thought a little existential debate in Castiel's mind would be interesting to look at. Sorry if this is too _deep_ and non-fluffy. **


	5. A New Mission

**My apologies for the lack of updates on my stories. I just haven't had much inspiration from my muse and the lack of reviews on my last few uploads has me wondering if I should even continue. When I asked for reviews the last time I posted something, one of the "reviews" blasted me for harping about reviews. The simple truth of the matter is that reviews fuel muses.**

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><p><strong>A New Mission<strong>

Amelia offered to get me a wheelchair, but I declined. If I was going to see Claire I was going to do it on my own two feet…well one of them…but upright anyway. I rummaged in my bag and found the sweat pants that I had brought with me, but I wasn't sure I could get them on by myself. I rang the nurse and waited, sending Amelia on ahead so she could prepare Claire for what she was about to see. By the time the nurse had helped me into less revealing clothing Amelia was back, obviously wondering if I had backed out.

As we made our way slowly down the hall and up the elevator I caught Amelia starting to put a hand out to steady me several times as I wobbled a bit. She hesitated each time, but finally put a guiding hand on my back as I began to falter when we neared Claire's room.

"Thank you."

"I'm getting you a wheelchair for the trip back. No arguments, Castiel."

I sighed and nodded, wishing I had listened in the first place. "Please just call me Cas. No one has called me Castiel in a very long time."

Upright or sitting down I probably looked like death warmed over anyway, so I wasn't sure why I was concerned that Claire would find me lacking. The door was open and Amelia went through first, explaining quickly to Claire that I was on my way in. I stopped and leaned heavily on my crutches for a second as I heard Claire gasp, trying to summon up the courage to enter the room. I knew she was excited to see me, but that didn't bolster my confidence any. I wasn't going to be the all powerful Angel she remembered.

I took a deep breath and started through the door to find Claire on her way out. She looked at me quizzically for a moment and then put a steadying hand on my back as I entered the room as her mother had. A boy I could only assume was the baby's father jumped out of the only chair in the room and offered it to me. I declined with a shake of my head and then we all just stood there staring at each other. I wasn't sure what the boy knew of the situation, so I looked pointedly at Amelia hoping she would give me a clue.

The awkward silence was deafening. Amelia busied herself ushering Claire back into bed and I shifted awkwardly as the boy looked me over. It was pretty clear he did know, and he looked like he wasn't really sure what to think about the former angel in the room. Claire was the only one that seemed truly happy to see me. I was at a loss for words, and I breathed a sigh of relief when a faint cry from the bassinet beside Claire's bed took all the eyes in the room off of me.

I briefly considered leaving as they all cooed at the baby and seemed to forget about me momentarily, but I knew this had to be done. Maybe I could finally provide some closure for all of them so they could get on with their lives without Jimmy…or me. That thought went out the window as soon as I saw Amelia settle the baby into Claire's waiting arms. The feeling in my gut hit me like a sledgehammer, even more so than it had the day I saw Amelia and Claire's pictures on the computer.

As much as I wanted to believe that Jimmy was no longer with me, it was obvious that some part of him lingered. I felt a protectiveness and connection to the small being before me that I hadn't felt since I had raised Dean from perdition. It was similar, but it was more than that…it was primal…fierce…something I knew instinctively could only be the thing that Dean felt when Sam was threatened…or any human felt when their family was in danger. Protectiveness beyond my angelic comprehension. Once my grace had drained away, I thought I understood the feelings that drove humans to do the sometimes suicidal things they did for friends and family, but I was so very wrong. Now I truly understood…and I knew in that moment that I would not rest until I had found a way to rid this world of Lucifer's twisted and vitriolic hatred of humankind. I had always wanted that for my friends, but never had I wanted it so much for myself.

Amelia's voice filtered through the crush of thoughts. "Castiel? Cas?"

I shook my head to clear it and looked up to see everyone staring at me once again. "Um, sorry…lost in thought."

Claire smiled down at her son, then looked up at me hopefully. "Do you want to hold him?"

The closest I had ever come to holding a baby was when I held Cat. I wasn't sure I was prepared for holding such a small human. "I'm afraid I'm not experienced with babies. Probably better that I not."

She looked disappointed, and looked imploringly at her mother. Amelia looked at me and relaxed a bit as she smiled. "They don't bite. Just sit down in the chair and I'll show you how."

Amelia pointed at the chair and I lowered myself into it as gracefully as I could. Once she had taken my crutches and made sure they were secure, she laid a blanket across my arms and carefully placed the baby in it, showing me how to cradle the baby's head properly. At first it felt very wrong, like I would hurt him if I moved, but eventually I relaxed and marveled at the infant human I was holding. For a moment the tiny hand that rested on the blanket brought back that feeling of wonder at my Father's creation that I used to feel and the possessive, protective feeling rushed back with a vengeance. I had only come up here to satisfy Claire's wish to see me, but when Amelia finally took him from me I felt a great emptiness…I didn't want to let go. I brushed the tiny hand with my thumb and kissed his head softly as she lifted him up. I wasn't sure why I did it…it just felt like the right thing to do. Amelia looked at me strangely for moment and I wondered if I had done something wrong.

The most powerful human emotions I had ever felt rushed through me. Even when I knew I was probably going to die and knew that Dean was dead it hadn't been like this. I wanted shield the tiny human with my non-existent Grace from monsters and demons and dick Angels. I wanted more than anything for the heartache that I brought upon his family to _never_touch him. I knew it was too late though. The minute I talked to Jimmy this little human's life was forever changed by what I was about to do, even if he hadn't even been thought of yet. I had a new mission. I had to make this world a better place for this baby. How I was going to do that I had no idea, but I knew I had to. I struggled to hide the confusing array of emotions that I knew were probably written all over my face. Love…anger…and a hatred for Lucifer that nearly took my breath away. I took a deep breath, forced myself to relax and tried to decide what a normal human being would say next.

"What are you going to name him?" I said quietly.

Claire looked at me thoughtfully as Amelia laid the boy back into her waiting arms. "That's why I needed to see you. We would like to name him James Castiel, but I wanted ask you first."

I'm sure my surprise was evident as I struggled with the notion that they wanted to name the baby after his Grandfather…and me. The person…no…_being_…that ruined their lives. The personification of all they had lost. I stared back at the hopeful look in Claire's eyes and knew I couldn't say no, but I also felt fear grip me at the thought that having my name might put him in danger. Tears pricked at my eyes as the impact of the honor I was being afforded hit me.

"I…um…don't know what to say. I'm honored, but do you think it's wise?"

Amelia looked at Claire and then at me. "I was not in favor of it, for reasons you obviously realize. The truth of the matter is that no matter what his name is, he's going to be an object of interest to Lucifer if he poses a threat to him for some reason."

She was correct of course. They could name him anything, and his connection to me would still make him vulnerable. I looked over at the baby's father, who seemed outwardly content to let Amelia and Claire decide, but I got the impression from his lack of participation in the conversation that he felt a little lost and left out. I knew that feeling well. It was all I knew when my grace had finally left me completely and I found myself wholly dependent on Dean to guide me into my new world. It was a long time before Dean quit second guessing everything I did and made me feel like I was a contributing member of the camp.

The boy looked at me shyly and shrugged slightly as if he knew what I was thinking. Amelia and Claire were both strong women, and as fully prepared to deal with the events of the last few years as anyone that wasn't a hunter could be. He was probably rather intimidated by the girl that was an Angel's vessel and her mother. He was also very young…probably not much older than Claire. He needed an ally.

I turned my body toward him and gave him my full attention for the first time since I had entered the room. He was tall…probably taller than me, with sandy brown hair and green eyes that reminded me of somewhat of Dean. He didn't have Dean's hunter hardened gaze or battle tested muscle though. He was very clearly still very much a young boy, with little idea what he was up against. I decided to start with the basics. "What is your name?"

He jerked to attention, obviously surprised that he was being addressed. His eyes locked on mine for a moment and then slid away to look at Claire. "Um, Michael, Michael Dean Evans…sir."

I winced inwardly at his middle name, but smiled at him in the hope that he would relax a bit. "You approve of this name for your son?"

His eyes went wide for a moment when I said the words _your_ _son_. I realized that I was probably one of the first people to say those words to him. I couldn't imagine the pride and fear he must be feeling at the same time. He shot a small smile over at Claire, then drew himself up to his full height and looked at me. "I am, sir. Whatever makes Claire happy."

"And your family? Do they approve?"

His eyes fell and I realized that I probably should have not asked that without knowing if he still had a family. So many people didn't these days. I could see the tears threatening to break free. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't pry."

Michael closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "No, sir. It's…OK. They didn't make it. They sent me ahead to the compound and were going to come later, but I never heard from them again."

"That must have been difficult for you."

"Yes sir. I'm OK though. I have a new family. I have to take care of them now."

As he nodded his head vigorously I could tell he was trying to convince himself as well as me that he could take care of them. I made a mental note to talk to Amelia about anti-possession measures and how well prepared this young boy was for such a task later. I could see in his eyes as he looked at Claire and his son that he would die before he let anything happen to them, but I could also see by his smooth uncalloused hands that he probably didn't know anything about actually protecting them. The first task of my new mission had presented itself already. I had to teach all of them how to survive.

An hour ago I had intended to come up here and see Claire because it was her wish that I do so and then leave them to go on about their lives as I went on about mine. I looked up to see Amelia regarding me thoughtfully. She also seemed to know what I was thinking as she nodded slightly and inclined her head toward Michael. She obviously knew they needed help, and that I was probably the best option for getting it.

I looked back at him and he seemed to be waiting for me to say something. "Michael?"

"Yes, sir?"

I had no idea what a father would say or do in these circumstances, but I had seen Bobby and then Dean taking scared young men under their wing enough in the last few years to give it a shot. "Will you call me Cas, please? _Sir_sounds much too formal."

"Yes sir…I mean…Cas."

He squirmed a bit as he called me by my name, but I expected he would. Dean had explained to me once that it was something parents taught their kids to do as a sign of respect for their elders. "They have told you what I used to be?"

"Yes si…Cas. You really were an Angel?"

"Yes, many years ago. "Do you want me to teach how to take care of them?"

"Yes...if it's OK with Claire's Mom. She hasn't been too keen on you."

I shot a questioning look at Amelia to make sure I was reading her correctly. She nodded briefly. "I'm aware. I think she's…um come around. Apparently Claire has managed to convince her that I'm trustworthy."

He relaxed visibly and smiled at Amelia. "Thanks."

I looked at Amelia and winced slightly as my knee reminded me that I should probably have it elevated. "I should be getting back to my room now. I'll visit again tomorrow before I am released if there is time…otherwise I will speak with Amelia soon and arrange something."

Amelia moved to get the wheelchair in the corner and helped me into it. She was quiet as she rolled me out into the hall and toward the elevator. When we stopped to wait for it I felt her hand briefly touch me on the shoulder.

"You felt something didn't you? When you held the baby." she said quietly.

I wanted to say no. I didn't want her to know that I had these confusing feelings until I had a chance to understand them, but I also knew that lying wouldn't be a good start to this strange new relationship. "I…yes."

"I thought you said he wasn't in there."

She sounded slightly angry, like she thought I had lied to her earlier when I told her Jimmy was gone. "He isn't. His soul is gone. Of that I am certain, but it seems something of him remains with me. I felt…a great protectiveness toward the baby. It was the same when I saw your pictures on the computer, only less so."

"What does that mean? Does it mean part of him is here and he can't go to Heaven? Please tell me he's there. After all he gave up for you he deserves that."

"Amelia, I wish I knew. I was not prepared for these…feelings. The only explanation for it is that some part of him remains with me."

The elevator doors opened and she pushed me in, then just stood there as it descended to my floor. I didn't know what else to say, and it seemed she didn't either. When the doors opened again she took a deep breath and sighed.

"I can get back to my room if you prefer. I understand if you don't want to be near me right now. I'm sure this is difficult for you."

I began to propel myself forward awkwardly, finding it more difficult to maneuver the chair than Bobby had made it look. I expected Amelia to remain on the elevator, but as I rolled myself toward my room I heard her soft footsteps catching up with me and then she began pushing the chair once again until we were back in my room. I half expected Margaret to be there, since she had had enough time to think about our earlier conversation, but she wasn't. I felt a sinking in my chest as I thought about what I would do if she didn't come back for me. I really had no where else to go, and even if I did I wouldn't be able to retrieve my belongings from the Inn in my current condition.

Amelia stopped the chair close to the bed and set the brakes, then helped me into bed. She stood there for a minute and then sank down into the chair as I tried to get comfortable. I looked over at her once I had arranged the blankets and she opened her mouth twice before any sound came out. "Castiel, I saw him."

I wrinkled my brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"When I took the baby you brushed his hand with your thumb and kissed him on the head…that's exactly what Jimmy did the first time he held Claire. For just a split second you were…him."

"Oh."

She raised an eyebrow and looked at me curiously. "Yes…_oh_indeed."

I couldn't think of anything to say. I knew the moment that I was restored at Stull Cemetery that Jimmy wasn't with me anymore; in fact I had visited his Heaven briefly once just to be sure he was there and at peace. Had some part of him lingered within me? Had he found a way back, but only after my Grace was gone? Had God…or someone else put him back? I didn't fall as Anna had, my Grace just drained away and left me in my vessel's body. As far as I knew this was unprecedented, so I had no previous knowledge of how such a thing would work. As a human I had no way to discern whether I was alone in this body. I needed answers I probably wasn't going to get, but Amelia was waiting for one.

I sighed and flopped back on my pillows. "Amelia, I truly don't know what this is. No Angel has ever fallen in this way. I am…an enigma."

She pursed her lips and stood, looking down at me. Her eyes wandered about the room for a second and I studied my hands, waiting for her to say something. When I looked back up she was staring at me and then suddenly her lips were against mine. It was soft…chaste...and I knew somehow that I was not the person for which it was intended. I resisted the urge to return it, but something…_someone_ in me wanted to.


	6. The Reluctant Prophet Returns

**The Reluctant Prophet Returns**

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><p>By the time I recovered my composure Amelia had withdrawn and looked like a deer in headlights. I just looked at her, afraid that anything I might say would be the wrong thing. She chewed her bottom lip nervously, then turned and left so quickly I didn't have time to think about stopping her. I knew I was in no condition to go after her, so I fidgeted with the blankets and tried to make sense of all that had just happened. I looked up as I heard a tentative knock at the door. It was Margaret. I breathed an inward sigh of relief and waved her in.<p>

She looked at me apologetically. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken off like that. I have no right to judge you."

"It was a lot to take in. You had every right to be upset."

"So I saw Amelia in the hall. I take it she found you?"

"Yes, she did."

Margaret walked to my bedside and squeezed my hand before sitting down. "Was she upset?"

"Yes, no, and I think maybe yes."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"She was upset at first, then we talked and she wasn't, then I went upstairs to see her daughter and her new Grandson and…um things happened and gave both of us something to think about."

Margaret still looked confused, and then her eyes narrowed. "Wait, if she has a Grandchild, doesn't that make…um…your body his Grandfather?"

"Yes, biologically anyway. The situation has brought up an interesting philosophical debate."

"Huh…interesting indeed."

I sighed and sank back into the pillows, relieved that Margaret seemed to be back in my corner. My eyes climbed to the ceiling, wishing I still had some Angel mojo so I could sense any danger that might be lurking about my…well whatever they were to me upstairs. I suppose _charges _would be the best way to describe them for the time being. Much like the Winchesters before them, I had now unwittingly inserted myself into their lives again. I could only hope that I would be more successful with the Novaks than I was with the boys.

My mind was racing, but the after effects of the anesthesia and my overtaxed body wasn't going to let me think about much more tonight. I vaguely heard my name and turned my head to see Margaret's lips saying something. I struggled to keep my eyes open, but they slid shut as Margaret smiled and patted my hand. The next thing I knew sun was streaming in the windows and Margaret was stuffing her magazines and books into her bag.

She smiled down at me as I shook my head to clear it. "Wake up, sleepy head. I can't believe you slept through the night with all the poking and prodding they did to you."

I felt like I had been on a three day bender. I cleared my throat and attempted to speak. "I did?" It came out more of a croak than an actual voice.

"Yep. It's time to get out of here anytime you want to get your lazy ass out of bed."

"Amelia. I need to see her before I go."

"She came by early this morning and said they were leaving. Told me to tell you to call once you get settled at home."

"But I have to protect them…I can't…I have to…they need my help." I struggled to throw off the covers, forgetting once again that I was in no shape to take care of myself, much less them. Margaret stilled my hands and put a steadying hand on my shoulder.

"They'll be fine until you are back on your feet. Mark is rounding up some people to keep an eye on them until you can."

"But they won't know about…_things._"

"Um…apparently someone named Chuck called him up last night and arranged something. Said he was a friend of yours? Said he could help?"

My head was suddenly clear at the mention of Chuck. How had he known to call? Was he having visions again? Better yet, how was he even still alive? When I saw his note back at camp I was momentarily happy that he had managed to get out alive, but given his total lack of anything resembling survival skills I was doubtful that he would get home alive without an Archangel on his shoulder. Perhaps someone was looking over him still. If that was true then maybe I had a chance to figure this out.

"Yes! He can help…I hope."

My voice trailed off a bit as I realized that if Chuck was back in the picture things were probably about to become more complicated. I didn't escape my notice that the timing of his reentry into my life was particularly suspicious given that it coincided with the birth of little James Castiel.

"Who's Chuck. Not another former Angel?"

"No, um former prophet."

Margaret's eyebrows shot up and she took a deep breath. "Prophet? Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"I have no idea…at least not until I talk to him. When I last saw him he wasn't receiving any prophecies. I suppose if he knew to call Mark then he has seen something. I wonder why he didn't call me?"

"Mark said he tried to call you, but just got voice mail."

"I didn't even think about checking my phone. Hazards of living so long without one I suppose. Will you get it for me?"

Margaret went to the small closet and dug around in my bag for a minute while I got more and more nervous about why Chuck would be calling someone he didn't even know. By the time she had found it I was about ready to jump out of my skin. I smiled slightly at the thought that it hadn't been so long ago that I could actually do that. The phone was off of course, since I had seen no need to have it on with Margaret here, so the time it took to boot up was sheer torture. When the screen finally came to life it started beeping and chirping like it was possessed. 10 Voicemails from a very familiar number and countless text messages that flew by so fast I could barely read them, but the overall message was clear…Chuck had seen something. Either that or Dean wasn't dead. It was Dean's old number from before the Apocalypse. I motioned to Margaret to close the door and pursed my lips as I pushed the button to return the call.

A shaky and slightly drunk sounding, but familiar voice answered. "Cas…where the hell have you been? I've been calling for days!"

"Hello Chuck. I'm in the hospital…or is that something you haven't seen?"

"How did you know I was seeing things again?"

I sighed, remembering how out of it Chuck could be when he was drinking away his migraines. "The 10 voicemails and endless string of texts you left maybe?"

"Oh…yeah. Um…why are you in the hospital? Are you OK?"

"Fine, just had to get my knee fixed. Demon shot it up on the suicide mission."

"So you are still human?"

I rolled my eyes in Margaret's direction. "Um…hospital Chuck? Angels don't usually end up there." I could almost hear the sputter of his brain engaging over the phone line.

"Hospital…right. We need to talk. Soon…like NOW."

"Where are you?"

"I'm not sure."

I sat up straighter, fearing that I was already too late and someone or something had gotten to him before me. "Who took you? Are you in danger?"

Chuck snickered. "No…I just drove here as fast as I could after the vision and then got really drunk when I couldn't get you on the phone. I just can't remember."

I released the breath I didn't realize I was holding and rubbed my face with my free hand. Chuck could be rather difficult to figure out when he was in prophet mode. "Where were you driving to?"

"Somewhere in North Carolina. That's where the baby is."

The force of that simple statement slammed me in the chest so hard I felt like I was gasping for breath. It could be another baby, so I tried to remain calm. "What baby?"

"The offspring of the Vessel and the Keeper of the Word."

I closed my eyes and fell back onto my pillows. "Oh shit. It's worse than I thought."

Chuck suddenly sounded more alert. "You _know _about the baby?"

I sighed and sat back up. "Yes, I held him in my arms less than 24 hours ago."

"WHAT? You are in the same hospital with the baby?"

"Yes. They are all here…or they were."

"OK…I remember now. I'm in the crappy motel right down the street from the hospital. I stopped to try to figure out how to approach them, but I guess they already know."

"Know what?"

"You don't know?"

"No, Chuck. You are going to have to spell it out for me…human remember? Not exactly in touch with Angel radio."

"Just get here as fast as you can and make sure that Mark guy has them safe."

"I can't just walk out of here…even if I could actually walk. I have to be released or it will raise eyebrows."

"Oh yeah…right. Well get working on that."

He hung up without saying goodbye, so I assumed he thought I had everything under control. How wrong he was. I had no idea what was going on, since I wasn't privy to the Heavenly machinations that brought this prophecy into being. Then, as if someone knew I needed to get out, the nurse chose that moment to knock on the door and then stepped in without waiting for a reply.

"OK, time to get you out of here. I have your discharge papers."

I breathed an inward sigh of relief and tried not to look as panicked as I felt. "Thank you. I'm ready."

I motioned for Margaret to gather my things as the nurse checked my vitals one last time. I hoped that the pounding in my chest wasn't going to hinder my escape. She didn't seem to find anything amiss, so apparently the pounding was only in my imagination.

"Everything seems fine. Your blood pressure is a little high, but probably nothing to worry about. Probably just because you are anxious to leave."

"Yes, very."

She turned to Margaret after she maneuvered me and my crutches into a wheelchair, and started explaining the papers she was holding. I suppose I should have listened, but I had other things on my mind, and sitting helplessly by while they went over my care was only making me more frustrated with the situation. If the baby's father was indeed one of the Keepers of the Word then the baby that he and my vessel's bloodline produced could be very powerful. Could be. I wasn't sure. I only knew that no pairing of that kind had ever taken place and there was probably a reason in the Grand Plan that it hadn't. Of course this could all be some weird dream on Chuck's part. When all of the angels left and I became powerless, that was also when Chuck ceased to have his visions. In the months afterward he would occasionally claim to have seen something in a dream, but nothing ever panned out. I could be worried about nothing. It could all be a huge coincidence. Not likely though, since I had seemingly acquired the Winchesters' propensity to end up on the short end of the stick in every situation the moment I touched Dean in Hell.

It seemed to take forever to get downstairs and I would have probably leveled the place as it disappeared in the passenger side mirror of Margaret's car had I still been an angel. Having the weight of the world on your shoulders when you are an Angel is one thing, but when you are human? I fully understood in that moment why some humans turn to drugs and alcohol under stress. For me it had just been a way to fly when I didn't have wings anymore, but I was feeling the urge to find my stash more than I had in months. I put it down to having drugs in my system from the surgery and tried to push the craving down.

Margaret pulled into a shopping center once we were clear of the hospital parking lot and turned to look at me. "What now? I only heard your side of the conversation. I take it we are in big trouble again?"

"Yes. Well the truth is I don't know yet…and it is not _we_. It's my problem and I don't want you to get involved. Just drop me off at that motel up ahead and I'll find out what Chuck has seen and collect my things later."

She rolled her eyes and looked at me like I was an idiot as she pulled back out onto the road. I had seen the same look on Dean's face many times. "Cas, I'm already in it. Mark is too. You don't just go cutting yourself off from your friends when things get tough. If this didn't concern me then I never would have been told what you are…were. Sorry."

Margaret pulled into the motel parking lot and ran around to help me out of the car, but I was already out and hobbling awkwardly toward the entrance before I realized Chuck had never told me what room he was in. A strange feeling hit me and there was suddenly a number in my head. It had been so long since I had any angel powers that it took me by surprise. Did Chuck send the number somehow…or was I becoming an angel again? I wasn't even sure it would be the right one, but before I could get to the door Chuck came running out and nearly knocked me over.

"Cas…thank God you are here. Wait…how did you know which room I was in? I didn't tell you."

"I…don't know. It just came to me."

"Shit. I was hoping all this was just another false alarm, but apparently it isn't."

He walked back into the room and started pacing as if I wasn't standing there, and he didn't seem to even acknowledge Margaret's presence as she finally caught up to me and stood nervously at my side. "Chuck, this is Margaret. I've been staying in her B&B."

He waved a hand distractedly and continued pacing. "Yeah…I know. I saw it."

That surprised me and I immediately thought of the message that Margaret had been sent. "_When _exactly did you see this?"

Chuck looked up at me like he was surprised I was still in the room. "I don't know…about a week or two ago I guess. I've been pretty sloshed since then so not sure. Does it matter?"

"Margaret also received a message from God…or at least it appeared to be from God…about the same time. That's how she found out what I am…was."

"Yeah I know…that was the first thing I saw. Are you sure it's _was_?"

I was getting more anxious by the moment, but also rather irritated that Chuck wouldn't just tell us what was going on. "What do you mean am I sure?"

"That you aren't an angel."

I rolled my eyes in a pretty good imitation of Dean Winchester, tapped him on the shin with a crutch and gestured down at the brace enclosing my leg. "Gimp here Chuck…not an angel."

"Ow! Yeah I get that Cas, but have you actually _tried _to heal it?"

It actually hadn't occurred to me to try. It had been so long since I had any powers that I never even thought about it any more. When they had first drained away I would try things from time to time and when they didn't work I just found the bottom of a bottle or lit up a joint to drown the utter feeling of helplessness. Eventually I stopped trying. Now that I had settled into a semblance of a human life I just carried on as if that was my normal state. I wasn't even sure I remembered how to summon my grace. "Why? Do you think I can?"

"And the child shall be born in the East of the vessel and the Keeper of the Word, protected by the righteous fallen. The fallen shall be reborn an Archangel to look over the infant."

I could feel my heart beating out of my chest at this point, but I tried to remain outwardly calm. "Do I look like an Archangel to you? Or righteous?"

"Um…no. You look like Cas, the ex-druggie sex guru."

I blushed and looked at Margaret who was looking up at me strangely, but she didn't say anything. "Chuck, I really don't understand. Angels are not promoted to Archangel…and Father only created the ones we know. No others have ever taken their place in all the millennia since we were created."

Chuck rolled his eyes at me and sighed. "Didn't you learn anything from all of your escapades with the Winchesters? We kinda threw out the playbook. Maybe he's writing another one…and isn't it God's prerogative to change his mind?"

He had me there. We had seriously screwed the plan on numerous occasions, and I knew that the current timeline we were in was _not _what he intended to happen. Sam and Dean both were supposed to say yes, not just Sam. Without Michael fighting Lucifer the whole Grand Plan went down in flames and Lucifer got exactly what he wanted. I had no idea what my intended place was in the original Grand Plan after the big fight, but I was fairly certain it wasn't supposed to be this. None of this explained why Jimmy was apparently making his presence known to me though, so I got up the nerve to ask. "What about Jimmy? Have you seen anything about him?"

Chuck looked confused for a moment and then looked me up and down. "Oh right…your vessel. Nope. Why?"

"I thought he was gone…but he seems to be in here again. Maybe I was mistaken about him leaving. I don't know."

"Nothing on Jimmy, but something big is about to happen. You sure you don't have any powers back?"

I momentarily let my bad knee take a little of my weight even though I knew I wasn't supposed to yet. I felt a sharp pain and gasped as I shot a nasty look at Chuck. I leaned heavily on my crutches as the pain subsided. "Fairly certain."

"Look Cas. I just know what I saw and you've confirmed the baby. Maybe…maybe it'll just come out the blue like a lightening bolt or something and you'll be an archangel?"

"Yes, but the baby is already here and I'm still helpless. How am I supposed to protect him like this?"

Chuck shrugged and I hobbled across to the bed and sat down to but my leg up. I really wanted to test his theory by trying to heal it, but I didn't want to do it with anyone nearby. I was afraid if powers did suddenly manifest that I might not be able to control them…especially since couldn't even remember how it was done. Someone could get hurt.

"I talked to that Mark guy. He's got people watching them."

"Mark is Margaret's son and I trust him, but if this baby is part of a new prophesy I'm not sure humans can protect him."

"Well, I guess you need to figure out how you are supposed to transform from gimp to Archangel and get on it…pronto!"

I rolled my eyes again and wished I had enough mojo to at least sober Chuck up. He wasn't much help the way he was. I snagged his arm with my hand as he paced close enough to the bed and jerked him down beside me rather forcefully. "Chuck, you've got to stay with me here. If this is a new prophesy then there are no reference materials to use. Do you understand? What is in your head is all we have to work with."

Chuck looked up at me and his eyes widened fearfully. "What about me? Do I still have an Archangel? Who's protecting me?" If Lucifer finds out I know this stuff I'm toast…or chunky soup."

There really was no way to test it other than to attack him and I highly doubted a simple human attack would bring an Archangel running unless he was in mortal danger. I wasn't about to try shooting him just to see if Raphael came calling, since I really didn't want to tangle with him again in my current condition…or any condition for that matter.

"Look Chuck…you are the only one who can help us figure this out. Come with us and let's get you sobered up."

I hadn't noticed Margaret moving to the coffee maker in the room, but suddenly the familiar gurgling noise filled the room and Chuck sniffed the air experimentally. A few minutes later he was hugging the styrofoam cup to his lips like it was his last hope and staring at me curiously over the rim. He giggled and rubbed his eyes with one hand and then squinted at me. "You're glowing, Cas."

I looked at Margaret questioningly, and then stole a look at myself in the mirror over the desk. She shrugged and I could see nothing in my reflection but a very tired and gimpy human who needed a shave and shower badly. "I'm not glowing, Chuck. Are you sure alcohol is the only thing in your system?"

Chuck pursed his lips and glared at me as if he was offended that I would accuse him of taking drugs. "Yes! Jesus Cas…the last thing I need is more shit that messes with my mind."

"OK, OK. I didn't mean…it's just that I'm definitely not glowing. Just get your stuff together and let's go."

I had lost track of Margaret again, but when I looked up she had grabbed Chuck's tattered bag and was stuffing the clothing scattered about the room into it along with his things from the bathroom. She might not be a hunter or understand the full extent of what was happening, but she always seemed to know what she needed to do to help. I smiled at her and turned my attention back to Chuck.

I shook him and tried to snap him out of his reverie again, as he was still staring at me intently. "Have you written any if this down yet?"

Chuck jerked as if I had awoken him from a deep sleep. "Wha? Oh yeah…writing. It's in my car…in the trunk…I think."

I glanced around the room and it seemed that Margaret had gathered all of Chuck's belongings and was standing at the door with his bag. "Let's go. We can make more sense of it all back at Margaret's place. We'll have to leave your car here because you are in no shape to drive."

Chuck got up, still casting a glance over his shoulder at me every so often as he stumbled towards Margaret. I grabbed my crutches and stood up, wincing as the blood rushed downward to my knee. If there was any healing power in my body it definitely wasn't manifesting itself. As hobbled past Margaret she placed a hand on my shoulder and I took a deep breath...thankful that she was with me. I wasn't sure what I would have done if she had no returned. "Thank you, Margaret…for everything."

She took Chuck's arm to steady him and then looked back at me. "You make that sound like a final thank you."

I sincerely wished it was, that I could somehow remove her from this increasingly dangerous situation, but I could see no way that could happen, so I wanted her to know in case the unthinkable happened. "I'm sorry…for you getting dragged into this."

Margaret smiled softly and started propelling Chuck down the hall. "You didn't drag me into this. God did…so stop apologizing and get in the car!"

I followed as fast as I could, not wanting to let either one of them out of my sight. Margaret and Chuck were already through the door at the end of the hall and I heard a loud crash as it closed ominously behind them. I threw my crutches down, ignoring the pain in my knee as I limped as quickly as I could to the door. I looked cautiously out the small window in the door, and knew that I was going to have to think fast. Chuck's car was upside down in the parking lot, and several demons were pawing through the mess that used to be in the trunk…probably looking for the pages on which he had written the new prophesy. Two others were holding Margaret and Chuck tightly, and the look if panic in Margaret's eyes chilled me to the bone. I had no weapons, no salt, and no idea how I was going to get us out of this situation with limited physical abilities. My only hope was Chuck's missing Archangel Raphael, and he didn't seem to be coming to the rescue.


End file.
